


There Was Poetry

by STUMPEDD



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Burr's side of Hamilton's monolouge, He's a sad man, Help Burr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STUMPEDD/pseuds/STUMPEDD
Summary: Hamilton greeted him on the other side. He was the only one and perhaps that’s the way it was supposed to be. History was set in stone. And Burr wished he could change it all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This could be a prequel to Best of Husbands, Best of Men tbh. I should stop forcing historical people to be sad.

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, NUMBER 10 PACES_ **FIRE**

The bullet is shot, and Burr’s world freezes. This is his chance. He can have what he wants now. Hamilton will be gone. But what if Hamilton shoots? Burr’s a goner if so. He watched Hamilton in the war. He was ready to fight and die and he didn’t. Hamilton never died. Why would this be different. The sickness, the hurricane, the war, his many other duels, Eliza’s anger, James Reynolds. Nothing shot him down. No nothing. He would fall but throw himself up and keep going.

Burr wondered, who would greet him on the other side? Who would greet Hamilton? He assumed Hamilton would be met with Washington, Philip, Laurens, and so many more he’d lost. Perhaps Peggy Schuyler who he always spoke so fondly of. Would his mother greet him? Perhaps. His brother James? Would his father be there, supposing his father had passed?

But Burr. Who? His parents? Theodosia? No. He wouldn’t be greeted by anyone. He sat back too long. No one cared for him. He looked up to see Hamilton’s eyes flickered up. He was asking the same thing. Or was he seeing them? Wouldn’t surprise Burr for Hamilton to know exactly who was waiting for him. He knew so much more than Burr. That’s what led to this. This...what was this? This was the doom of one or the other. It was funny. He remembered meeting Hamilton. He was so bold and excitable. The polar opposite of Burr. They were friends for so long. In fact, Burr remembered calling Hamilton a brother. They were like it enough. 

What went wrong? They were so much to each other. Brothers, friends, co-workers. He knew exactly what went wrong now. That damned room. That damned cabinet. He could have been great but he waited. What was it Hamilton had said? If you stand for nothing, what will you fall for? God what would he fall for. His missed chances, his dead family, or perhaps he would fall for nothing. He’d be dead and gone with no soul other than Hamilton remember him.

What of his daughter? Would she remember him? Who knew. She had grown so fast. He was proud of his girl. So, so proud.

Burr looked to Hamilton who wore a well placed smile. This was Burr’s end. He knew it. But then...Hamilton’s finger came off the trigger. _Wait_. Hamilton’s arm raised up. _Wait_! The sound of the bullet hitting Hamilton was so much. “WAIT!” He cried out. It was too late. He walked up, reaching out his hands before the doctor shoved him off. What had he done. Hamilton could have had the final battle. He wouldn’t have died like so much before. But he died. Burr was the only thing that could kill Hamilton. He was worse than the plague. Than a hurricane. Worse than public humiliation. He wouldn’t see the other side. Oh god how he wished he would have. Hamilton could have done so much. So, so much.

He got on the boat and pulled his legs close to his chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was the villain in Hamilton’s history. He would be the inkblot in Hamilton’s life. He would be remembered for this. For killing Hamilton. He deserved it though. Had he waited only a moment more. Just one moment more. What if he apologized? What if he hadn’t sent that letter. What if he’d stayed by Hamilton side? He had so many options dating back years. But he never took the other road. He was never to be remembered for the greats. He was to be remembered for the wrongs. “There was poetry.” He looked to the sky. “Remember who I was Hamilton. I am still your brother right? Oh god no. I don’t deserve your care.”

WIth that, he was silent. He mourned for a week. When the newspaper printed it he gripped it tight. God he was so wrong. Hamilton was so right. This was Burr’s legacy. He was never to be remembered other than the man that killed Alexander Hamilton and you know what, he eventually fell for something. For Hamilton’s legacy. Hamilton greeted him on the other side. He was the only one and perhaps that’s the way it was supposed to be. History was set in stone. And Burr wished he could change it all.

**Author's Note:**

> IDK where this came from but it's here.


End file.
